Sacramentum
by Strange and Intoxicating -rsa
Summary: "No, Ignis. You must promise this to me as a man to another, a man who is the father of the one you hold so dear." Ignis makes a promise to King Regis after the arrival of a foe in the room where the walls smell of death and the marble reminds him of childhoods long gone. Ignoct (The Heaven of Cut Stars-verse part 1) Fix-it fic
1. Chapter 1

_Sacramentum_

Notes: I told myself I wasn't going to just jump into a fandom without thinking. I told myself that I can't ship something until after the damn thing comes out. I told myself no. I also have no self control. Fuck it.

Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy XV. I don't even own the game yet. You know, it should have been today, alas...

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"Ignis, may I have a word?"

Ignis looked to King Regis, the gray streaked through his beard and the crown of hair above his head a twisted reminder of the futility of the future, the frail broken wings of a kingdom... They were but useless poetry, and Ignis was their spinner. Had it not been for his promise to Noctis, his undying fealty, the naivety of a childhood long gone, perhaps things would have been different.

And yet, here he was, standing before the King, and somehow...

He knew.

He heard the rumors, that there had been someone who entered the city earlier in the day and requested the King's time. Ignis... he did not attend the morning's meetings, instead spending his time where he was needed the most. Yet, if the rumors were true... there was a peace offering.

And it came with stipulations.

"Of course, your Majesty," Ignis stated as he dropped his head. Even after growing up in the palace, spending his childhood playing in its halls, learning its secrets and its never-ending spectrum of delights, he didn't like the Throne Room. There was something there, it its walls like a rotting meat that he could never quite find to throw away. What he really wanted was to be allowed out of the room and back into Noct's old chambers, but he knew better than to ask or outright disobey a request from the King.

King Regis was a kind man, devoted to his son in a way that Ignis could relate. There was something about Noctis that called out for protection. It was not weakness, for Noctis was anything but weak. But the smell clung to him as well, something that Ignis could not hide from at night when he buried his nose in Noct's hair and wished for better days ahead... the end of the war, the end of the suffering.

The end of the masquerade.

Ignis looked down to his hands and the small burns from various mishaps in the kitchens. If he were honest, he originally hated baking, preferring the comfort of a ladle and a pan. He only tried the first time because he knew that he needed to do something to try and help his dearest friend, the person he swore his life to so long ago. And then, when he saw the way Noctis's eyes glowed with something Ignis hadn't even noticed was missing, he knew he would bake as many blasted cakes as he could until it was perfect.

It wasn't even about the cakes, it was about Noct. It was always about Noct, and would always be about Noct. The black-haired man didn't even need to say a word to have Ignis wrapped around his finger. He would give anything-his eyes, his hands, his life, to make sure that Noctis was happy.

And then the King smiled at him in a way that made something in Ignis break, and he knew.

He knew.

The Throne Room's heavy doors slid open as two imperial guards gripped the handles, their strength barely able to withstand the pressure. Yet King Regis knew that they would open, and had not stopped or faltered in his step. It only made sense that it would be as such-the king waited on none.

Ignis followed the man's trailing cloak, listening to each clink as the King's cane on the gray and black marbled ground. He trailed after the king as he made his way up the first set of stairs toward the throne.

He looked down and the white outline caught his eye. Ignis remembered the game he played as a young child, where he tried to jump from dark gray slab to the next without stepping on the white outline. He and Noct played the game until their feet were too big to fit in the squares.

The throne was imposing, the diamond patterns of gold embossing the arms, the red velvet reminding him of the carpet in Noctis's room. He wondered if Noct would notice it, when he sat down one day in the chair raised so high above them all. The dual stairs curving up toward the seat reminded him of promises and childhood glee, before the accident.

After, things were different.

The Prince slept, slept for so long no one really believed he would wake. Ignis remembered sitting at his bedside and watching, waiting for the slightest change. Even as the clammy hands of death tried to take him, Noct fought. He was strong, then. He was just a little boy, scared and tormented by daemons he could not fight, and Ignis remembered taking his vows curled up next to his friend. He promised to protect Noct.

When he woke, Noctis was different. Gone was the confident boy and in its place was a shell that Ignis watched slowly crack. He would take his time, however long it would be, and he would emerge a strong man. He was so sure of it...

"Ignis, I need you to do something." The man stopped moving toward the stairs and instead turned, forcing himself upright on his cane. The way the man's eyes reflected in the light reminded him of Noctis when he woke, frightened and alone, with no one to comfort him from his nightmare. "There was a visitor this morning, I am sure you have heard."

"Yes, your Majesty." He was sure that Noct hadn't yet heard, no doubt still asleep. Ignis would have cracked a smile, thinking about the way the other man-more boy than man, if he were honest with himself-could sleep through the dawn or the dusk. Instead, he looked somberly at the man who helped to shape him into who he was today.

"Good." Regis put one hand on the bannister and leaned back to prevent putting too much pressure on his bad leg. Oh, how he could still put on the air of strength even as the wall sapped away his strength. Was it selfish of Ignis to wish the man never died and allowed Noctis to live out his days, unburdened by the stress of his bloodline and the Lucis Curse...

The King continued after adjusting the grip on the head of his cane. "The Chancellor of Niflheim offered a peaceful surrender in exchange for the lands outside Insomnia, and..." Ignis closed his eyes. "He wants Noctis to marry Lady Lunafreya Nox Fleuret."

The cogs in Ignis's mind turned, yet he could not think of a reason nor solution. "That is... an odd request."

The King broke a small, bitter smile that did not reach his eyes. "I thought so, too. I do not think Lady Lunafreya would harbor ill will. After all, she continued to keep in communication with Noctis despite her predicament."

If Ignis's frown could have deepened, he was sure that comment would have done it. Yes. Her predicament. He knew full well that the young girl had been surrounded by their enemies for years. Her only protection was in regards to her status as Oracle. Otherwise, Ignis was certain, she and her country would have been snuffed out like all the others. Niflheim cared none for anyone who dared to harbor the enemy...

Yet, marriage?

The words sat in his belly and he lifted one hand to push up his glasses. "If you are sure, your Majesty."

"I have no cause to believe otherwise. However... I do not think that a wedding will be happening any time in the near future."

If there were a peace treaty, the wedding would no doubt follow almost immediately as a

symbol of the true unity of the two nations. And, of course, no one would dare ask what Noctis or Luna wanted...

As a young man, Ignis was told on more than one occasion that Noctis would marry a princess one day. He would need to be king, and with it a queen would be needed. It never really struck him until that moment, standing in a hall framed with the smell of death, what it truly meant to be a king.

Ignis closed his eyes and imagined Noctis's body curled up in bed, how he always slept on his left side but would constantly roll around throughout the night. He would sometimes fall asleep with his head tucked into the crook of Ignis's arm.

He could not see Lady Lunafreya with her feminine body next to him. He could not see her fingers probing him as he lay panting and shivering below her. He would always curl the bed sheets in his hands and groan as he bucked himself up and down. She would not be able to make Noctis curse or cry, nor wrap his legs around her waist to pull her in deeper as though he would die if she weren't there.

Ignis needed to look away from King Regis. It was difficult to look the man in the eye when he could see Noct in them. Noctis's future, like the cane in the King's hand and his weak knee.

"Ignis, I need you make a promise to me."

He could not look at the man, but he knew that if he did not he would regret it.

It was funny how much Noctis looked like him. It was something in the ears, Ignis thought faintly. If only he could laugh...

"Yes, your Majesty?"

"I know you care for him. You care for him in a way that no other can, and no other will. But you must make a promise to me... a vow." Regis looked like a worn leather book, the pages frayed and the glue losing its strength. He could read every line like papers scattering to the ground.

He knew.

"Of course, your Majesty-"

"No, Ignis. You must promise this to me as a man to another, a man who is the father of the one you hold so dear. You must see to it that the line of succession does not end with him. You must assure me of the continuance of the bloodline." The veins in the king's forehead shone through the paper skin.

"Of course."

"Ignis, I have known you since you were but a child. And I remember the first time you met Noctis. He was a colicky baby, always crying. His mother nearly went mad the first few weeks after his birth. She invited your parents to the castle in hopes that they would be able to impart some of their knowledge from your infancy. You were much the same, or so I was told."

The king smiled, an open mouth smile that showed his teeth. "When you heard his crying, you wiggled yourself from your mother's arms and waddled across this very throne room. I can still remember how you climbed up those stairs-" Regis pointed his chin toward one of the upper sets of stairs, "and then into the Queen's lap. I remember her laughter, your father apologizing, your mother trying to pull you away, but you could not be swayed."

"And then you took his hand, and it was as though a spell were cast and the crying ended. It was the first moment of silence where he was truly at peace."

Ignis had never heard that story before; he knew since he was a little boy that his duty was that of advisor for Noctis. He was taught by the best of advisors and tutors to be the hand of the king, to make decisions that would affect the Lucis kingdom and its subjects. But he had never known that the tumultuous relationship he and Noctis shared started as a child trying to comfort another.

"You cared for him then, and you care for him now. Please, Ignis, I beg of you. Protect him, protect this family, protect this world. He is more important than you can even imagine."

But Ignis knew the importance of Noct. He had known it in his bones. And, if the story King Regis told him were true, he had known it as a baby, too.

"I would die for him, your Majesty."

Regis shook his head and moved away from the bannister and slowly pulled himself up to the throne. He sat down and the red velvet reflected off his silver beard. "I know you would, Ignis. No one would doubt that for a moment."

Ignis dropped a short bow, hoping that would be the end of the conversation between himself and the king. The smell was beginning to affect him and Ignis needed to get back to Noctis. He needed to do something...

"Ignis, would you live for him?"

The question caught Ignis by surprise and he pulled up his chin to look at King Regis.

"I don't know what you mean," he said, and then looked back down to the ground, "I will do what is best for Noctis. I will always do what is best for him."

"And if what if what he thought was best was something you believed went against his well-being, what would you do?"

Ignis felt his hands tighten, but he allowed his face to remain impassive. "Noctis is able to make his own decisions. Even if I did not agree, I would do as he wished. I... I believe in him. I believe in his intuition."

The answer did not placate King Regis, and the man sighed and crossed his leg, resting his elbow on his throne. "Do not lie to me, Ignis. I have known you for far too long."

"I will not allow him to be harmed. By his own hand or any other."

"Thank you, Ignis."

Ignis shook his head and ran his hands down the front of his pants, a gesture he tried to rid himself of. "Your Majesty, I believe I should go get Noctis."

"Yes, please bring my son. He needs to know of the situation. You will leave immediately for Altissia. Time is of the essence. I do not trust there to be safe passage within the next few days."

Ignis looked one last time at the Throne Room, at the regal walls and the marble that held his childhood in its barely noticed scuffs, and gave a bow to the King.

As Ignis walked the corridors, following the light of the sun reflecting off the rich tapestries and walling, he allowed his hands to relax. The little crescent moons sang against his hands and he could not keep his feet from hitting the marble with more pressure than needed. But, as he turned the corner and grabbed the door handle that led into Noctis's old rooms, he allowed himself to calm.

He gave a look to the two guards, one that they understood well.

"I believe you two look a little hungry. There are pastries in the kitchens; please help yourselves." He gave a tight-lipped smile and the two, Marius and Vent, nodded their heads.

"Of course, Count Scientia," the blond one, Marius laughed as he elbowed Vent. "Your baking's way better than the Missus. Swear, she only makes rocks! Really oughta write a book. Let me give it to her as a gift."

The two men laughed and Vent even leaned forward and patted Ignis on the shoulder as the two walked in the opposite direction.

"Good luck getting the Prince up," he snickered.

He waited until the two men turned the corner to open the heavy door and slid in, making sure to thumb the lock before heading off into the room.

It was dark, but Ignis could see the foyer and the soft glow whispering its sweet nothings. He allowed himself to follow the sound of soft, shallow breaths.

Noctis was a selfish sleeper. He allowed his body to starfish out and cling to whatever was closest. On more than one occasion, Ignis found himself in the man's clutches and unable to free himself. If he were honest, he didn't want to be freed. And yet there he was, arms outstretched on his left side and surrounded by a sea of pillows, just as Ignis left him before dressing in the quietness of the dawn breaking.

The sheets were tangled around his waist and a sheen of sweat traced down his brow. His hair was an absolute mess a slight stubble over his cheek where nothing had been only a few hours before.

Ignis had never seen Noctis so beautiful.

He looked down to his phone and quickly set his alarm for an hour, and shed off his clothing like removing his skin. Gone was the feeling of hard cotton and leather, in its place the softness of Noct's skin and sheets.

Ignis slipped off his glasses and placed them on the side table next to his phone, then slowly inched himself into the bed, wrapping one arm around Noctis. He pulled the man close, feeling the feathery hair tickle his nose and chin.

Noctis smelled of death. It was hard for Ignis to think of a day where the smell was gone. Perhaps it was the daemon that left the ugly scar across Noct's back. Perhaps it was the sleep that never ended.

But Ignis breathed it in deeply, not minding Noctis's movements to be more comfortable.

"Iggy, five moa' minz," the other man mumbled as he turned in the bed, nearly hitting Ignis with his head. "Lemme sleep."

He laughed then, because he knew. He knew the road ahead, he knew that this would be the last time he was permitted to hold the man he loved within his arms without worry of queens and kings and promises.

"Noct," Ignis whispered into the wisps of hair that were his freedom and his despair. "You can always sleep, right here. I promise."

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	2. Chapter 2

Note: This is officially Fix-it Fic verse. Spoiler warning.

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Ignis reached out, running his hands against the rim of the crystal. He could imagine it against his hand, the colored hues of purples and blues. It would have been beautiful, he knew.

But more beautiful was what was cocooned inside; sleeping and waiting.

Ignis could still picture it: the curl of Noctis's hair, his hands in the sheets, the way his left foot always had to rest against the right-never the other way around. How he would turn on his side and nuzzle his nose against the crook of Ignis's shoulder, letting the whispers of sweet morning nothings scatter against Ignis's cheek like falling leaves.

Noctis was only sleeping.

"Trust me, I promise you. Noctis... please."

Ignis wished he could see, but touch would have to do.

He knew exactly where Noctis's hand was. He could feel the warmth pulling at him, and he wasn't sure if it were the Ring of the Lucii or just his own knowledge of his lover's essence.

"I will not leave your side. Wait for me. We will return when we find what you need."

Ignis kissed the tips of his fingers and rested those against the crystal as well, hoping that wherever Noctis was he could feel it.

"Until then, please sleep well."

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Note: This is now part of "The Heaven of Cut Stars" Verse. Please follow the series as we go together, hand in hand, to fix this.

Please review!


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